NAPOLEON’S CORONATION.
Napoleon’s coronation was the great event of the year; but some time
before it was consummated the English caricaturist took advantage of
it, and J. B. (West), in September 1804, produced a ‘Design for an
Imperial Crown to be used at the Coronation of the New Emperor.’ A
perusal of the foregoing pages will render any explanation unnecessary.
[Illustration: Cushion of Usurpation]
Napoleon omitted no ceremony which could enhance the pageant of his
coronation. The Pope must be present: no meaner ecclesiastic should
hallow this rite, and he was gently _invited_ to come to Paris for
this purpose. Poor Pius VII. had very little option in the matter.
His master wanted him, and he must needs go; but Napoleon gilded the
chain which drew him. During the whole of his journey he was received
with the greatest reverence, and could hardly have failed to have been
impressed with the great care and attention paid to him. For instance,
the dangerous places in the passage of the Alps were protected by
parapets, so that his Holiness should incur no danger. On his arrival
at Paris he was lodged in the Tuileries, and a very delicate attention
was paid him--his bedchamber was fitted as a counterpart of his own in
the palace of Monte-Cavallo, at Rome.
The eventful 2nd of December came at last; but, before we note
the ceremony itself, we must pause awhile to see how the English
caricaturist treated the procession.
Hardly any one of Gillray’s caricatures (January 1, 1805) is as
effective as ‘The Grand Coronation Procession of Napoleone the 1st,
Emperor of France, from the Church of Notre Dame, Dec. 2nd, 1804.
Redeunt SATANIA regna, Iam nova progenies cœlo demittitur alto!’ Huge
bodies of troops form the background, whose different banners are--a
comet setting the world ablaze; an Imperial crown and the letters SPQN;
un Dieu, un Napoleon; a serpent biting its tail, surrounding a crowned
N. and a Sun, ‘Napoleone y^e 1st le Soleil de la Constitution.’
The procession is headed by ‘His Imperial Highness Prince Louis
Buonaparte Marbœuf’ (a delicate hint as to his paternity), ‘High
Constable of the Empire,’ who, theatrically dressed, struts, carrying
a drum-major’s staff fashioned like a sceptre. Behind him come ‘The
Three Imperial Graces, viz. their Imp. High. Princess Borghese,
Princess Louis (cher amie of y^e Emperor) & Princess Joseph Bonaparte.’
These ladies are clad in a most diaphanous costume, which leaves little
of their forms to the imagination, and they occupy themselves by
scattering flowers as they pass along.
[Illustration: THE THREE GRACES.]
[Illustration: TALLEYRAND, KING AT ARMS.]
After them comes ‘Madame Talleyrand (ci-devant Mrs. Halhead the
Prophetess),’ a stout, Jewish-looking woman, who is ‘Conducting the
Heir Apparent in y^e Path of Glory’--and a most precocious little imp
it looks. After them hobbles ‘Talleyrand Perigord, Prime Minister and
King at Arms, bearing the Emperor’s Genealogy,’ which begins with
‘Buone Butcher,’ goes on with ‘Bonny Cuckold,’ till it reaches the
apex of ‘Boney Emperor.’ Pope Pius VII. follows, and under his cope is
the devil disguised as an acolyte, bearing a candle; Cardinal Fesch is
by, and acts as thurifer. The incense is in clouds: ‘Les Addresses
des Municipalités de Paris--Les Adorations des Badauds--Les Hommages
des Canailles--Les Admirations des Fous--Les Congratulations des
Grenouilles--Les Humilités des Poltrons.’
[Illustration: NAPOLEON IN HIS CORONATION ROBES.]
Then comes the central figures of the pageant, ‘His Imperial Majesty
Napoleone y^e 1^{st} and the Empress Josephine,’ the former scowling
ferociously, the latter looking blowsy, and fearfully stout. Three
harridans, ‘ci-devant Poissardes,’ support her train, whilst that
of Napoleon is borne by a Spanish don, an Austrian hussar, and a
Dutchman, whose tattered breeches testify to his poverty. These are
styled ‘Puissant Continental Powers--Train Bearers to the Emperor.’
Following them come ‘Berthier, Bernadotte, Angerou, and all the brave
Train of Republican Generals;’ but they are handcuffed, and their faces
display, unmistakably, the scorn in which they hold their old comrade.
Behind them poses a short corpulent figure, ‘Senator Fouché, Intendant
General of y^e Police, bearing the Sword of Justice.’ But Fouché is
not content with this weapon. His other hand grasps an assassin’s
dagger, and both it, and the sword, are well imbrued in blood. The rear
of the procession is made up of a ‘Garde d’Honneur,’ which consists
of a gaoler with the keys of the _Temple_ and a set of fetters; a
_mouchard_ with his report, ‘Espionnage de Paris;’ _Monsieur de Paris_,
the executioner, bears a coil of rope with a noose, and a banner with
a representation of the guillotine--and a prisoner, holding aloft two
bottles respectively labelled Arsenic and Opium. More banners and more
soldiers fill up the background.
What a sight that must have been on the morning of the 2nd of December!
Visitors from all parts of France were there; and the cathedral of
Notre-Dame must have presented a gorgeous _coup d’œil_, with its
splendid ecclesiastical vestments, its magnificent uniforms, and the
beautiful dresses and jewels of the ladies. It can hardly be imagined,
so had better be described in the words of an eyewitness, Madame
Junot.[3]
‘Who that saw Notre-Dame on that memorable day, can ever forget it? I
have witnessed in that venerable pile the celebration of sumptuous and
solemn festivals; but never did I see anything at all approximating in
splendour to the _coup d’œil_ exhibited at Napoleon’s Coronation. The
vaulted roof re-echoed the sacred chanting of the priests, who invoked
the blessing of the Almighty on the ceremony about to be celebrated,
while they awaited the arrival of the Vicar of Christ, whose throne
was prepared near the altar. Along the ancient walls of tapestry were
ranged, according to their rank, the different bodies of the State, the
deputies from every City; in short, the representatives of all France
assembled to implore the benediction of Heaven on the sovereign of
the people’s choice. The waving plumes which adorned the hats of the
Senators, Counsellors of State, and Tribunes; the splendid uniforms
of the military; the clergy in all their ecclesiastical pomp; and the
multitude of young and beautiful women, glittering in jewels, and
arrayed in that style of grace and elegance which is only seen in
Paris;--altogether presented a picture which has, perhaps, rarely been
equalled, and certainly never excelled.
‘The Pope arrived first; and at the moment of his entering the
Cathedral, the anthem _Tu es Petrus_ was commenced. His Holiness
advanced from the door with an air at once majestic and humble. Ere
long, the firing of cannon announced the departure of the procession
from the Tuileries. From an early hour in the morning the weather had
been exceedingly unfavourable. It was cold and rainy, and appearances
seemed to indicate that the procession would be anything but agreeable
to those who joined it. But, as if by the especial favour of
Providence, of which so many instances are observable in the career
of Napoleon, the clouds suddenly dispersed, the sky brightened up,
and the multitudes who lined the streets from the Tuileries to the
Cathedral, enjoyed the sight of the procession, without being, as they
had anticipated, drenched by a December rain. Napoleon, as he passed
along, was greeted by heartfelt expressions of enthusiastic love and
attachment.
‘On his arrival at Notre-Dame, Napoleon ascended the throne, which
was erected in front of the grand altar. Josephine took her place
beside him, surrounded by the assembled sovereigns of Europe. Napoleon
appeared singularly calm. I watched him narrowly, with the view of
discovering whether his heart beat more highly beneath the imperial
trappings, than under the uniform of the guards; but I could observe
no difference, and yet I was at the distance of only ten paces from
him. The length of the ceremony, however, seemed to weary him; and I
saw him several times check a yawn. Nevertheless, he did everything he
was required to do, and did it with propriety. When the Pope anointed
him with the triple unction on his head and both hands, I fancied,
from the direction of his eyes, that he was thinking of wiping off the
oil rather than of anything else; and I was so perfectly acquainted
with the workings of his countenance, that I have no hesitation in
saying that was really the thought that crossed his mind at that
moment. During the ceremony of anointing, the Holy Father delivered
that impressive prayer which concluded with these words:--“Diffuse,
O Lord, by my hands, the treasures of your grace and benediction on
your servant, Napoleon, whom, in spite of our personal unworthiness,
_we this day anoint Emperor, in your name_.” Napoleon listened to
this prayer with an air of pious devotion; but just as the Pope was
about to take the crown, called the _Crown of Charlemagne_, from the
altar, Napoleon seized it, and placed it on his own head. At that
moment he was really handsome, and his countenance was lighted up with
an expression, of which no words can convey an idea. He had removed
the wreath of laurel which he wore on entering the church, and which
encircles his brow in the fine picture of Gérard. The crown was,
perhaps, in itself, less becoming to him; but the expression excited by
the act of putting it on, rendered him perfectly handsome.
‘When the moment arrived for Josephine to take an active part in the
grand drama, she descended from the throne and advanced towards the
altar, where the Emperor awaited her, followed by her retinue of Court
ladies, and having her train borne by the Princesses Caroline, Julie,
Eliza, and Louis. One of the chief beauties of the Empress Josephine
was not merely her fine figure, but the elegant turn of her neck,
and the way in which she carried her head; indeed, her deportment,
altogether, was conspicuous for dignity and grace. I have had the
honour of being presented to many _real princesses_, to use the phrase
of the Faubourg St.-Germain, but I never saw one who, to my eyes,
presented so perfect a personification of elegance and majesty. In
Napoleon’s countenance, I could read the conviction of all I have
just said. He looked with an air of complacency at the Empress as
she advanced towards him; and when she knelt down--when the tears,
which she could not repress, fell upon her clasped hands, as they
were raised to Heaven, or rather to Napoleon--both then appeared to
enjoy one of those fleeting moments of pure felicity, which are unique
in a lifetime, and serve to fill up a lustrum of years. The Emperor
performed, with peculiar grace, every action required of him during the
ceremony; but his manner of crowning Josephine was most remarkable:
after receiving the small crown, surmounted by the Cross, he had first
to place it on his own head, and then to transfer it to that of the
Empress. When the moment arrived for placing the crown on the head of
the woman, whom popular superstition regarded as his good genius, his
manner was almost playful. He took great pains to arrange this little
crown, which was placed over Josephine’s tiara of diamonds; he put it
on, then took it off, and finally put it on again, as if to promise her
she should wear it gracefully and lightly.’
It is almost painful, after reading this vivid and soul-stirring
description, to have to descend to the level of the caricaturist
descanting on the same subject; it is a kind of moral douche bath,
giving all one’s nerves a shock.
[Illustration: JOSEPHINE AT THE CORONATION.
NAPOLEON CROWNING HIMSELF.]
Soon made they every preparation
For a most brilliant coronation:
’Twas on, as must each bard remember,
The nineteenth day of _dark_ November[4]
When all the streets were strew’d with sand,
T’ exhibit a procession grand;
And the Cathedral, lately scorn’d,
With sumptuous frippery adorn’d.
Brave Bonaparte and Josephine,
Preceded by the Pope, walked in;
His Holiness the crown anointed,
And Boney Emperor appointed.
Then Corsica’s impatient son,
Snatch’d up the Crown, and put it on.
The Crown was decked with French frippery,
And with the oil, was rendered slippery;
Nap kept it on, tho’, without dread,
To let them know _he had a head_.
And as to dally he was loth,
He rapidly pronounc’d the oath--
As soon as he the oath had swallow’d,
Another Coronation follow’d--
Fair Josephine advanced, and lo!
Nap put on her a crown also.
‘Ah me!’ thought she, ‘there’s something wrong,
I fear it will drop off ’ere long.’
Of holy oil, it seems, the fair
Had got too plentiful a share.
This pantomimic business o’er,
Now marched they grandly as before;
For, tinsell’d pageantry united
With an equestrian troop, delighted
The new-made Emperor of Paris,
As much as Covent Garden Harris;
And all the people, for this wise end,
Were in the finest garments dizen’d;
They finish’d with illuminations,
Songs, music, dancing and orations.
The white wine, which in fountains flow’d,
Considerable mirth bestow’d.
The folks enjoy’d, free of expence,
The glare of lights, which was immense:
And the new Emperor, with glee,
Drank, till no longer he could see.
[Illustration: JOSEPHINE AS EMPRESS.]
Authentic news of the coronation did not reach England for nearly a
fortnight, and it was not till December 15 that the ‘Times’ was able to
give its readers a full account of the ceremony. ‘The Thunderer’ waxed
very wroth about it, as may be seen by the following extract from its
leader of that date:--
‘The “Moniteur” merely insinuates that the sun miraculously penetrated
through a thick fog, to be present at it: a compliment which is a
little diminished by a subsequent assertion, that the lamps were
afterwards able to supply his place by giving a noon-day brilliancy
to the night. Then follows a disgusting hypocritical panegyric upon
the union of civil and religious acts and ceremonies, the sublime
representation of all that human and divine affairs could assemble to
strike the mind--the venerable Apostolic virtues of the poor Pope,
and the most astonishing genius of Buonaparte crowned by the most
astonishing destiny!
‘The public will find these details, under their proper head, in
this paper. To us, we confess, all that appears worthy of remark or
memory in that opprobrious day is, that amongst all the Royalists and
Republicans of France, it was able to produce neither a BRUTUS nor a
CHŒREAS!
‘The day subsequent to the coronation, the people of Paris were
entertained upon the bridges, boulevards, and public places, with
popular sports, dancing, and other pastimes and diversions.
‘Upon the PLACE DE CONCORDE, still stained with the blood of the lawful
sovereign of France, were erected saloons and pavilions for dancing
_waltzes_. Medals were given away to the populace; illuminations,
artificial fireworks, pantomimes, and buffoons, musicians, temporary
theatres, everything was represented and administered that could
intoxicate and divert this vain and wicked people from contemplating
the crime they were committing. To the profanation of the preceding
day, it seems that all the orgies of wantonness and corruption
succeeded in the most curious and careful rotation, and that all the
skill and science of the DAVIDS and CHENIERS has been exhausted to keep
them for four and twenty hours from thinking upon what they had done.’
But not only in leaders did the ‘Times’ pour forth its wrath; it
published little jokelets occasionally, which were meant to be
very stinging, as, for instance: Monsieur NAPOLEON has distributed
his Eagles by thousands. What his _talents_ might be doubtful of
accomplishing, he expects from his _talons_.’
The ‘Daily Advertiser’, too, of December 15 contains some pretty
sentiments on the coronation, such as, ‘If Modern Europe will, after
such fair notice, and a notice so often repeated, by the French
Government, still remain in sluggish inaction, in stupid astonishment,
at the success of that Ruffian, who now wields the sceptre of
CHARLEMAGNE, and has dragooned the POPE to his Coronation, it is
evident that nations so besotted are only fit to be enslaved.’